“I don’t know you,” she said, with unequivocal surprise, “I am sure you don’t know me. You have mistaken me, sir, for some other person.” The man bent his head down, and looked closely and impertinently at her face; he appeared rather agreeably surprised by its prettiness. “How absurd,” he exclaimed, catching hold of her wrist, “mere affectation, you little coy queen, you. We are good friends, you know, of course.” He tried to put her hand within his arm. Lotte wrenched her hand from him, and stamped her foot indignantly. “How dare you touch me?” she said, her face and neck becoming a brilliant crimson. “You are aware that I am an entire stranger to you, and that your speaking thus to me is an insult.” “The little pearl!” exclaimed the man, with a slight laugh, as he placed himself before her to impede her advance. At this moment his companions arrived, and one of them said, with a stupid grin-- “A brace only, Spoonly; Vane and I will have to go Newmarket for the other.” Lotte felt her companion shiver, shrink, cower, as though she would sink into the earth. She clung tightly, desperately to Lotte, and in a low, hissing whisper, she murmured-- “For mercy’s sake, let us fly!” “Stand aside, sir!” cried Lotte, firmly, and with clear tones, to the man who detained her; “let us pass on without further interruption.” “I will do anything in the world, my little pet, to gratify you,” responded the man whom she addressed, “but that--a--I cannot do that.” Again Lotte stamped her little foot angrily. “But you shall!” she exclaimed. “A ruffled dove, by Jupiter!” exclaimed her tormentor laughing. “Now, if there is one thing I love to see beyond aught else, it is a ruffled dove. It is such a pretty bird, and it swells and extends its feathers, and struts so gloriously, I feel that I could catch it in my arms and press it”---- “I say--though--by Jove--here, Spoonly, stop,” suddenly observed the person who had before spoken, “I know this young lady; you must give way to me here.” “You know her, Grahame!” cried the man he addressed as Spoonly; “well, that gives an interesting turn to the incident.” “You know her, Grahame?” cried the third individual, advancing, “pray introduce us; we shall make a blissful termination to a dull barrack dinner.” At the sound of his voice, Lotte’s companion seemed as though she would crawl upon the earth from the spot. It was the Honorable Lester Vane who spoke. Lotte was at a loss to divine why she betrayed so much abject fear, but she felt that it called upon her for renewed spirit and exertions. She caught a firmer hold of her companion’s arm, and pushing her first assailant out of her path, hurried on, but he instantly pursued and caught her.